


Tent+Rain

by JustAnotherWriter (N1ghtshade)



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Camping, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16250510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N1ghtshade/pseuds/JustAnotherWriter
Summary: They say hindsight is always 20/20. But in this case, hindsight is zero visibility, in a literal monsoon, with occasional flashes of lightning.Jack plans a camping trip for Mac's birthday to surprise him. Things do not go at all as planned.





	Tent+Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [just_another_outcast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_outcast/gifts).



> This happened because it's been raining nonstop where I live for almost a week and just_another_outcast and I were discussing camping...and this got in my head.

It was supposed to be a surprise. Jack knows how much Mac  _ hates _ celebrating his birthday, but he figures an overnight camping trip in the San Gabriel mountains would be welcome any time. 

He’s been camping with Mac a thousand times, but usually Mac is the one who preps the gear. Jack has a tent and an old stove and some fishing poles that belonged to Pops, he thinks that should be good, right?

The tent’s in decent shape for being a relic. There are a few patches on it but Pops did really nice work. Jack remembers the man getting down the tent every year for the annual Dalton hunting trip, setting it up in the backyard and coating it in a sticky sealant that smelled horrible and always got worse when they were inside after a long day of the sun beating down.

The tent still has that gluey smell when Jack pulls it out, and he inhales and smiles at the memories. 

He figures the old thing still has enough of that rainproofing slime on it to be good for one overnight. Mac’s kinda sensitive to stuff that smells funny, and Jack would rather not give the kid a headache for the entire trip by coating the tent in more goo. 

In hindsight, Jack realizes, this was a mistake.

They say hindsight is always 20/20. But in this case, hindsight is zero visibility, in a literal monsoon, with occasional flashes of lightning. And almost as much rain inside the tent as out.

“Why didn’t you seal the seams?” Mac asks, shoving sopping bangs out of his face as he tries to shelter the pot of melting pine sap. 

As soon as the rain started, and shockingly cold water started dripping in on top of them, Mac realized what was happening. He’d asked Jack to fire up the camp stove while he went looking for pine trees. He was gone almost twenty minutes, and when he came back he was shaking and blowing on his fingers. Jack doesn’t like how blue the kid’s hands still look even though he’s next to the stove.

“Because that crap that goes on them stinks!” Jack says, rubbing his own arms and trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling of water running down his spine. “It woulda kept us awake all night!”

“So will the rain!” Mac shouts back over a very loud crash of thunder. He goes inside the tent, unzips a duffel bag, and returns with two t-shirts. He starts tearing the cloth into strips. 

“Dip these in the sap and then lay them over top of the seams. It’ll help hold the sap on and keep more water out.”

Jack follows the instructions to the letter. This is his fault, so he’s going to fix it. 

When they’re done, the inside of the tent isn’t a shower anymore, just an occasional slow drip that reminds Jack a little eerily of the water torture when he got caught in Myanmar in ‘13. 

The floor of the tent is a small swimming pool. “How come the seams at the bottom are all still sealed up?” Jack asks.

“W-well…” Mac begins, teeth chattering.

“I didn’t actually want the sciency explanation, genius, I was just commenting on my eternal bad luck,” Jack cuts him off. “How ‘bout we get out of these wet clothes before we get hypothermia, or are you gonna tell me we can’t at these temperatures, smartass?”

“Actually, you c-can get hypothermia at any t-temperature lower th-than normal b-body range,” Mac says. “A-and getting wet m-makes it happen f-faster.”

“Okay cool.” Jack winces at his own choice of words. “Let’s get dried off then.”

Their sleeping bags, which were on the ground, are rolled up out of the way of the seams (it was the first thing Mac did when he saw the water coming in), but the amount of water on the floor soaked them anyway, and they drip when Jack picks them up. So does Mac’s duffel bag. Jack’s was sitting on top of the camp stove’s box, and why that is he wasn’t sure, especially when Mac points out the potential fire hazard, but he’s grateful, because at least most of his clothes are dry. 

They’ve worked together far too long to be shy around each other, and they both change quickly inside the tent, shivering when the wind picks up and slams against the wet canvas. They dry off as much as possible with the half-drenched towel that was packed on the bottom of Jack’s bag, and Jack breathes a sigh of relief when his mostly dry t-shirt is over his head. 

He’s glad he always has the foresight to pack enough for Mac as well, because he can’t think of any one of these trips when the kid hasn’t needed to borrow some of Jack’s clothes at some point. 

His t-shirt for bandages when they had a terribly unexpected run in with a couple cartel thugs trying to collect on El Noche’s bounty. Jeans and a sweatshirt when Mac fell in a river while they were fishing. Boots when the kid lost his in a boggy sinkhole while he was trying to get closer to some bird he’d heard off the trail. 

Mac is still trying to get a sweatshirt over his head, fumbling uncoordinatedly and trying to shove his head through an arm hole. Jack reaches over to help him and flinches when his hands brush the kid’s bare skin.  _ Shit, he’s really cold.  _

“Hey, c’mere.” They can’t sit down, not until they figure out a way to get the water off the tent floor, but Mac needs to get warm, like, now. He looks about all of fifteen with his wet hair falling into his eyes and his bare feet sloshing through the water on the floor when he turns toward Jack. 

Jack pulls him close, rubbing his hands through the kid’s hair, over his shoulders, and down his back. They stand there like that a long time, feet chilly in the water, Mac pressed tight to Jack’s warmth. And then Mac says something about bailing out the water and Jack digs out the tin mugs and they get to work. 

The tent doesn’t dry out perfectly, but Jack spreads out the sleeping bags so the already wet parts are on the ground and the tops are mostly dry. There’s really not enough room on them for two people, but they make it work. Besides, they’re both still cold and Mac is starting to sniffle more than Jack is comfortable with.

When Jack wakes up, his nose is chilly, his feet are chilly, but his chest is warm. Very warm. Beside him Mac rolls over.

“Gug morging,” Mac mumbles, and then rubs frantically at his nose. “Og no.” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed and his face is pale except for very red cheeks.  _ Damn it, he’s sick. _ Jack pulls the kid a little closer. 

“Hey, you’re okay.”

“I hade dis.” Mac really does sound like a child. He sniffs and rubs alternately at his eyes and his nose.

“I know you don’t like getting sick, bud. But what do you expect when you go running off in the rain?”

“Rain doesed bake you sick, Jack.” Mac mutters, still the insufferable know it all even as his nose begins running and Jack searches for a handkerchief. “I was already gedding sick from what Boder had last week. Ad we needed to seal the tebt.”

“You could have told me you were comin’ down with somethin’, man!” Jack says when he finally finds a semi-dry hankerchief. “I woulda shot down the camping idea then and there.”

“You were habing fud planning.” Mac grins slightly mischievously.

“You knew? It wasn’t even a surprise?” Mac nods and Jack sighs. “Oh man. I’m sorry, kid. This was supposed to be fun.”

“If id makes oo feel bedder, I forgod id was my birthday.”

“You know, in a messed up way it kinda does make me feel better. Speaking of feeling better, I think we oughta get you back to civilization so we can dump you in medical until you’re recuperated.”

“Jack, medical cand do adything. Id's jusd a cowd.”

“Yeah, but with your luck it’s gonna turn into walking pneumonia.” Jack shakes his head. “Come on, let’s go.” He stands up and pulls Mac against him, holding the kid upright while he fumbles to get their feet into their damp boots and laced up. He can come back for their gear later. Right now he wants to see Mac home and safe and warm and dry.

“I dodt wad to go to medical,” Mac slurs as they walk. “Can we go home an' you can make your cure-all chili an' we can watch Die Hard?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, buddy,” Jack says.  _ As soon as I get you in the car we are going right to medical to make sure you’re not gonna croak on me. And then chili and Die Hard.  _ Thankfully the kid falls asleep the minute they get to the Jeep and Jack doesn’t have to argue with him all the way to the Phoenix.

He watches Mac sleep while they drive. The kid looks so damn young but he’s seen and done more than most people do in a lifetime. And he’s only twenty-eight.  _ Happy Birthday kid. Sorry it was kinda a messed up one. But hey, at least it’ll always be better than the one we spent in Rio. _


End file.
